


Let's Not Make This Complicated

by undersail2013



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Ace SPN Week, Ace!Dean, Fluff, M/M, Sharing a Bed, Sleepy Cuddles, ace!cas, ace!destiel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-02 10:52:54
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5245604
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/undersail2013/pseuds/undersail2013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Dean accepts that he deserves to hold and be held</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let's Not Make This Complicated

Dean stumbled into his room in the dark, not bothering with the light switch.  He'd fallen asleep in the library, _again_ , and he was stiff from reclining between hard wooden chairs.  The fog of whiskey muddling his brain didn't help, either.   _Nothing like staggering to bed at 4am_ , he thought.  

He stepped out of his boots at the door and peeled off his clothes as he crossed the small room, leaving an uncharacteristic trail of dirty laundry.  _I'll get it in the morning._   He plopped down on the side of the bed to tug his socks off, tossing them away, before dropping sideways into his pillow.  He dragged his legs up onto the bed and straightened himself out.  As he went to adjust the waistband of his boxers, though, his elbow bumped a solid mass to his right.   _Jesus._   "Cas, you're in my bed," he grumbled, too bleary to give a damn.

"Sam kicked me out so he could sleep."  He was curled on his right side over the covers, still fully dressed, Dean guessed, in the shirt and sweats he'd swiped from the laundry while the brothers were driving back from Minnesota.  "And the guest room doesn't have sheets."  

"It's fine, buddy, you're good," absentmindedly patting Cas on the side.  Really his hip.   _Whatever._

Dean stretched and folded his hands over his belly.  He sank into the memory foam with a sigh.  But after a few minutes, his back was aching again.  He turned to the right, and bent his knees.   _Ahh, better._   He floundered a bit, his exhausted mind trying to figure out what to do with his hands.  He slid one along his front, only slightly crushed by his own weight.  The other he settled on Cas' shoulder.

A moment passed, or maybe Dean had fallen asleep, then Cas whispering, "I can leave if you-."

"Don't you dare," Dean mumbled.  His arm wound around Cas' torso and he buried his face against his friend's back.  The last thing he remembered before dropping off to sleep was Cas' hand curling around his bicep and the gentle soothing strokes of his thumb on Dean's skin.

 

***

 

Dean woke up to find his legs tangled with Cas', his head pillowed on his shoulder.  The old voice in the back of his head tried in vain to rouse panic, but he was comfortable.  He felt good.   _This_ felt good.  Someone to sleep with; someone to wake up with.  Uncomplicated affection.  Love.  He squeezed Cas tight with all his limbs and relaxed into a warm embrace.  "Morning, Cas."


End file.
